Stained Glass Heart
by spittingllama7856
Summary: Abraxas never meant to hurt Tom. He was betrothed to Lucille, and was expected to carry on the Malfoy line. He couldn't have done that if he'd became Tom's lover. It would've been so much easier to ignore his feelings if Tom hadn't loved him back. TRJ/AM slashy-slash or friendship, depending on what you want it to be. Companion piece to Heart of Silver, Tom's POV of this story.


**_The Houses Competition information_**

 _House: Hufflepuff_

 _Position: Prefect 1_

 _Category: Themed_

 _Prompt: [Word] Condemn_

 ** _Romance challenge information_**

 _Day/Fic Number: 04_

 _Representation: Rare Pairing_

 _Word count: 2258_

 _Note: This is a companion piece to my story_ Heart of Silver _. You do not have to read it to understand what is going on here, though it is recommended. It's Tom's confession._

 _So many thanks to Pix, Am, and Zoe for the help! I think I would've cried myself to sleep if I hadn't gotten this turned in on time._

 _ **Warnings** : slash; basically forbidden love; angst; open ending; possibly OOC Tom Riddle Jr.; Abraxas Malfoy/Tom Riddle Jr._

Abraxas Malfoy was fourteen when he'd first met Tom Riddle. His first thought when he saw him had been that there was something special about the younger boy.

Tom had a charming smile that fooled everyone into thinking he was fine, but Abraxas could see through it. He could see the cold heart that lay beneath the facade of warmth and kindness. Abraxas wondered how Tom had learned to hide his emotions so well.

Abraxas had thought that Tom was handsome, smart, and a skilled liar. He wasn't surprised that Tom wasn't a Pureblood; Riddle wasn't a Pureblood name, and despite how much Abraxas was tempted to spit in every other Mudblood's face, he couldn't bring himself to do that to Tom.

Tom had an inexplicable sort of power over him. He took the Malfoy in Abraxas and threw it aside like it meant nothing. Abraxas should've been offended that Tom had disregarded that because that was his _family_. He could only wonder if Tom understood the power he had over him.

The younger boy had come to him one night with frightened eyes, asking for Abraxas to show him how to cast _Lumos_ so he wouldn't be afraid anymore. He had showed Tom how to do it, and later, when the boy had tried to leave, he had gently pulled him into his bed.

He felt this overwhelming need to _protect_ and _love_ Tom, something he'd never felt before. He didn't even feel that way about his betrothed, Lucille.

Whatever had happened to Tom that first night, Abraxas never knew, but he suspected that one of the other boys who shared the dorm with Tom had locked him in his trunk. Tom was never able to stand small, confined spaces. That was the only thing Abraxas ever knew of that was able to induce fear in Tom.

Abraxas grew older. Tom grew with him. They melted against each other, molded into the perfect pair, fitting together like they'd been born to be closer to each other than to anyone else.

Abraxas had been even more drawn to the boy because he was powerful and there was no denying that. He could cast spells that Abraxas himself couldn't, though the latter had been exposed to magic for fifteen years longer than Tom had.

It was fascinating to watch Tom cast the spells Abraxas had the most trouble with. It left him breathless. He feared the power Tom had, but was equally, if not more, drawn in by it. There was something enchanting about the darkness that he could so clearly see. Perhaps part of the reason he had stayed around-at least, for the first few months they knew each other-was because no one in their right mind would ever oppose someone like Tom.

Abraxas had seen Tom cry. He had seen him laugh. He had seen him flick his wand and cause pain upon anyone who crossed him. He had seen Tom struggle to cast a Patronus. Tom, in turn, had seen Abraxas at his best and worst.

He'd always been there for his best friend. They had each other's backs through thick and thin. That's what they were supposed to be for each other. Abraxas didn't care much for labels or specifics; he only wanted Tom next to him.

That was what mattered.

Tom was beautiful to Abraxas. His dark, wavy hair shone in the sunlight, and his blue eyes were reminiscent of the eerily frozen lake in winter. His high cheekbones and pale, clear skin made him look like a Pureblood. He acted like one too.

Abraxas often felt confused when he thought about Tom. They were like brothers. . . but Abraxas didn't think it was normal behavior to cuddle with your brother-no matter how young.

Abraxas didn't want to think about it, because it would only lead to more confusion that would end up with a sense of disgust. Brothers didn't fall in love with brothers.

That wasn't _right_.

 _Whoever said he was your brother_?

That was the voice in Abraxas' head. It sounded strangely like Tom, but he ignored it.

Abraxas couldn't fall in love with Tom. They couldn't be together, even if Tom reciprocated the feeling. Abraxas was going to have to marry Lucille, whether he wanted to or not. There would be no point in hoping for something that couldn't happen.

He let himself push aside the knowledge that he cared for Tom in a way that wasn't completely platonic. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew how he felt. But he would never let it show. He _couldn't_ , because he didn't have the privilege of being with whoever he wanted.

Abraxas felt sick to his stomach whenever Lucille kissed him. He wanted to push her away and convince his parents to somehow get him out of a marriage that would be nothing more than a contract. He didn't though, because he was the sole heir to the Malfoy name. . . he had to have children, and sadly, Lucille was the only way for that to happen.

Instead of running to Tom like Abraxas wanted, he stayed with Lucille and plastered a smile on his face. It was for her, and for his parents. There was nothing he could do to change that, without condemning himself and Tom to a life of separation. Abraxas wouldn't put anything past his parents when it came to preserving the Malfoy name. . . and he'd rather remain friends with Tom, no matter how much he wanted to be with Tom, than to never see his best friend again.

Abraxas hadn't been expecting Tom to tell him he loved him. He had prepared himself to never hear those words from Tom's mouth. He'd hoped for it, because he hadn't been sure that he could control himself if Tom ever felt the same way.

It was an early January morning when Tom had told him. The sky was still pitch black, and snow fell around them. The snowflakes had caught on Tom's eyelashes and dark hair. He'd looked like an angel. Abraxas' heart ached to think about it.

Abraxas had almost told Tom, "You know that I love you too," but he had stopped himself. When Tom had turned away from him, Abraxas felt like someone had ripped his heart in two. He wanted to scream his love from the rooftops, kiss him senseless, hold him close.

Tom would believe him, if he did that. He felt an overwhelming need to throw himself into the love and tranquility he felt around Tom. He wanted to just sit with him and laugh like they used to.

Instead, Abraxas wrapped his arms around the brunet and tried to tell Tom everything he felt through the embrace. It didn't work.

Abraxas wasn't surprised. He knew that he should've felt relieved that Tom didn't know, because Abraxa wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he made Tom go on knowing that they were within arm's reach of each other, but could never act on their feelings.

Abraxas tried to reason with himself that it was for the best. He was graduating from Hogwarts that year, and Tom was only in his third year. There was Lucille and his parents to think about. . . so many things worked against them. Still, Abraxas couldn't stop himself from thinking about Tom.

Did he hurt as much as Abraxas did. Would he feel the pain forever in his soul, too?

Abraxas didn't talk to Tom again after his confession. They avoided each other at all costs. And it hurt, it hurt so much, because Tom seemed perfectly fine. Abraxas selfishly hoped that he wasn't. He hoped that Tom's heart ached as much as his did.

He couldn't bring himself to love Lucille like his parents wanted him to. He'd already given his heart away, albeit in pieces. He didn't have anything left to give to her.

Abraxas stood at the edge of the Black Lake, the night before the end of his last year at Hogwarts, thinking about the way things could've been.

He imagined that he was with Tom, and they could have a life together after Hogwarts. No kids, because neither of them liked them, and a place just for the two of them. No Pureblood customs, no Lucille, nothing restricting them.

He wondered if Tom would've seen it the same way, if he had been honest.

Abraxas sighed heavily, kicking a stone into the lake.

 _There's no point in thinking about this now_ , he scolded himself. _It's too late._

He closed his eyes momentarily and tilted his head back, breathing in the warm summer air.

"Abraxas." A voice floated over to him in greeting, cool and impersonal.

The Malfoy bit his lip and turned to face the owner of the voice-Tom.

 _Oh, God, don't make me do this. I can't do this_ , Abraxas thought helplessly before he opened his eyes.

Tom was taller than he'd been in January, that was the first thing Abraxas noticed. The second was something that frightened him. Tom used to be so expressive with his emotions with him, but tonight, his face was blank. Not a single flicker in his eyes betrayed his thoughts.

"Tom," Abraxas said shortly.

"I wanted to congratulate you. You've survived Hogwarts," Tom said dryly.

He stepped up next to Abraxas casually, staring out over the Black Lake. The water rippled with the movements of the Giant Squid. In the setting sun, Tom's eyes lit like fire and his hair glinted.

 _Angel_ , Abraxas' mind breathed.

"I'm sorry," Abraxas whispered, his lips moving against his will.

He heard Tom's sharp exhale and saw his lips tighten at the corners. Abraxas wasn't sure if he should be happy or not. He didn't like seeing Tom upset, but this was the first time he'd shown any emotion around him for _months_.

 _"How dare you_."

The anger in Tom's voice caught Abraxas by surprise. He blinked.

"You can't tell me you're sorry after what you did. You have no idea what that did to me," Tom spat, his blue eyes blazing.

He wouldn't turn towards Abraxas, though, as if it pained him too much to face the older boy. The blond's heart thudded painfully in his chest.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Abraxas murmured, turning away from Tom.

He couldn't look at him anymore. It made him angry and upset to see Tom. He was immensely powerful and intelligent, and could do anything he wanted with his life. Abraxas' life had already been planned for him; he didn't have a _choice_.

 _Am I. . . jealous of Tom? And why would Tom love me, of all people? There were so many other people. . . why me? This is too confusing._

"I know, but that doesn't change that it happened," Tom retorted.

Abraxas' eyes fluttered closed.

"Could you ever forgive me?" he asked softly.

He heard Tom snort, and his heart sank.

"No, I never will," he said.

Abraxas sighed gently.

"One can hope," he breathed.

"Ever the optimist, aren't you?" Tom asked.

Abraxas could _hear_ the smirk. He turned his back to Tom.

"I can't do this anymore."

His voice broke on the words. Tom laughed bitterly.

Abraxas thought it sounded beautiful.

" _You_ can't do this?"

Abraxas bit his lip. If he didn't, he was sure he would've told Tom everything he'd been feeling for him since he was fifteen. Everything would've come pouring out and he wouldn't have been able to stop it.

 _"Stop lying_ ," Tom demanded.

Abraxas swallowed against the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. He wasn't just imagining the hurt in Tom's voice. . . he _couldn't_ be. He wanted to turn around, hold the younger boy against his chest, and forget any of this ever happened.

"I'm not lying," Abraxas said.

"How am I supposed to tell anymore?" Tom whispered brokenly.

"I would _never_ lie to you, Tom. I care too much," Abraxas murmured.

"Really? Because it doesn't feel like it."

Tom sounded close to tears, his voice choked up as his words caught in his throat.

"I really am sorry," Abraxas said.

His fists clenched by his sides as he tried to keep himself from turning around and telling Tom the truth.

"I don't know why you keep apologizing," Tom whispered.

He almost sounds irritated, Abraxas thought.

"I don't know why either," he replied.

But he _did_ know, perfectly well. No amount of apologies would ever make up for breaking Tom's heart.

Something told Abraxas that Tom wasn't aware of that at all.

"Then stop doing it," Tom snapped. "It doesn't suit you."

"Worried about my reputation, Tom?" Abraxas asked lightly, tilting his head back slightly so he could see Tom from the corner of his eye.

The brunet had a small smile on his face. As Abraxas watched, Tom lifted his hand to cover his mouth, which he only did when he was trying to stop himself from laughing. The blond felt something that had broken inside of him heal a little.

It had been too long since they'd done the simple things together.

Abraxas wasn't sure that things were ever going to be the same between them, but he felt like something had righted itself, if only a little.

He was going to graduate from Hogwarts, leave Tom behind, and marry Lucille. But that didn't mean that he couldn't at least _try_ to get his best friend back.

They could repair things, slowly but surely. It would work. It _had_ to, because Abraxas couldn't live a life without Tom in it.


End file.
